


Snapshots

by SpraceJunkie



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, pardon me i love domestic fluff more than absolutely anything else, they are...the softest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 12:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20291779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpraceJunkie/pseuds/SpraceJunkie
Summary: Eight snapshot moments of life in Jack and Davey's apartment.





	Snapshots

Jack and Davey dancing in the kitchen to soft swing music. Dinner is cooking on the stove, two places are set at the table near the window, and a single long stemmed rose is in a tiny vase between them. They’re pressed close together, Jack’s hand in the small of Davey’s back, cheek to cheek, eyes closed. Neither of them is saying anything, and neither of them needs to. It’s quiet and simple and perfect and everything about it is full of love.

Jack painting in the living room as the sun rises. An old sheet is spread out on the floor to catch falling drops, looking like a Jackson Pollock from how many times he’s used it for this. His curly hair is tucked under a beanie just as paint-stained as the sheet but more than one strand has escaped down onto his forehead. There are streaks of blues and reds and yellows and purples dotting across his skin and the giant old shirt he was using to protect his clothes. Davey is sitting on the couch behind him, a book open in his lap and a cup of steaming tea on the side table next to him.

Jack cooking alone in the kitchen. The kitchen is a mess, dirty knives and bowls and cutting boards on every available surface, but the scent of whatever is on the stove is filling the entire apartment. Music is playing probably a little bit too loud for the neighbors, and Jack is practically dancing to it as he moves around the kitchen, pulling out ever more spices and adding them to the various pans and tasting as he goes. He’s mouthing along to the words and smiling every time he looks at the clock and sees it’s getting closer and closer to the time Davey will be home.

Davey sitting at the desk in the bedroom, illuminated only by a small desk lamp. He’s writing quickly, hunched over his notebook with his reading glasses slipping down his nose, hurrying to get a thought out before it disappears. His hair is tussled from sleeping and waking up, and he’s wrapped in a blanket from the bed that trails out behind the desk chair, one corner of it still tucked under the mattress. He thinks Jack is still asleep, and hasn’t noticed that he’s actually got his head propped up on one hand, looking over at Davey in the almost-dark, more in love than he could put into words with the man who’s probably writing something beautiful but who looks like a mess in the moonlight.

Jack standing in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing his teeth. Davey is in the shower behind him, singing quietly along to the music Jack is playing on his phone. Jack joins in when he spits out the toothpaste, singing his own harmony to a song they both know well. Davey laughs when Jack’s voice cracks on a high note of his own making, and it’s easy for Jack to laugh back in the steam filled bathroom. By the time Davey steps out of the shower, Jack is tugging a comb through his curls, trying to force them to behave in what was always a futile effort.

Jack and Davey on the couch, Netflix playing a romcom on the coffee table. Davey is sitting crosslegged leaning back against the arm with a pillow to make it more comfortable, and Jack is lying on his back, head in Davey’s lap. Jack’s eyes are only half open, and his head is tilted back so far there’s almost no way he can see the screen, and Davey is looking down at him instead of at the movie. Empty takeout containers are on the floor next to the couch, a mess for sometime later when they weren’t so comfortable.

Jack lying on the living room floor, staring at the ceiling. The brand new kitten Davey came home with last week is lying on his chest, purring so hard he can feel it all the way through his chest. The sunspot that attracted to the cat to his chest in the first place was gone, but she had stayed. He’s forgotten why he laid down in the first place, but he isn’t about to wake up the kitten. Davey comes in the front door and laughs at Jack’s position, the perfect sight to welcome him home after a long day.

Jack and Davey tangled in the sheets, moonlight mixed with city lights streaming in through the blinds. The blankets have been pushed off the bed, leaving on the sheets wrapped around them. Jack has one arm thrown over his eyes and the other wrapped around Davey’s shoulders, keeping him close. Both of them are asleep, Davey’s head resting on Jack’s chest. The cat is curled up at the end of the bed, also asleep. There aren’t any alarms set for the morning, and things couldn’t be more perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> this is literally just eight paragraphs of the most self indulgent fluff ever written but whatever i love them so much
> 
> I'm Asper, I'm a big lesbian, and I have a tumblr! Come hang out @graybeard-halt to watch me have meltdowns over (obscure) books and (many) musicals on the daily!
> 
> I really appreciate getting comments and kudos, so anyone willing to take a second to do that would absolutely make my day!


End file.
